


In Motion

by flake_sake



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:13:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flake_sake/pseuds/flake_sake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What goes on in Spike's head when he's fighting the slayer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Motion

Nothing compared to the feeling of fighting a slayer. And nothing at all compared to fighting this particular slayer. Every nerve in his body sang with excitement, as he reacted to the graceful pattern of her movements. She was truly chosen to do this, to be this. A force of destruction brimming with power like a lightning bolt, charging the air around them, so that the hairs in the back of his neck stood up.

Her left elbow caught his jaw with a disturbingly crunching sound. He tried to ignore the pain as best as he could and used the momentum to dive beneath her right fist that was aiming for his nose. Spike bent back and sidestepped to get out of her reach. Taking advantage from his longer limbs, he aimed a dropkick at the back of her knees. He managed to kick out Buffy's left leg from under her but it took her just an instant to rebalance and use the same leg to kick him in the face. Spike saw it coming but instead of evading the impact he just changed his stance slightly so that the blow could not catch him with its full force. He grabbed her ankle, pulling her foot towards himself. Buffy lost her stance for a moment but then she twisted in the air, letting herself be pulled by him, using his own strength to tackle him and knocked him off his feet. She crash landed on his chest, lingering just a split second to look him over before she punched him in the face.

It was that little moment that told him that, just maybe, he wasn't like all the other vampires to her. It was obvious how easy this came to her. Sometimes it even seemed to him that those fights were the only times when he got a glimpse at the real Buffy. Not trying to hide her raw power, but reveling in their mutual brutality. She was enjoying this just as much as he was, no doubt about it. He couldn't help grinning as he flipped her off himself and tried to pin her to the ground without success.

He would not necessarily say that she was quicker than him. Vampires were after all pretty agile. It was more the impossible way in which she moved, able to twist her small body out of its own strength without any need for leverage. Like a cat falling and preparing to land on it's feet. Punches that came out of nowhere and rightfully should not have had any force behind them could blow him off his feet. This made it hard to predict her next move, to lure her into a trap. Made it interesting too, though. All his senses were on edge to keep up with her actions and she still managed to catch him by surprise more often than not.

He twisted back to his feet, paying with a cracked rib for being too careless and expecting her to come from the other direction.

The faintest ghost of a smile glinted in her eyes. He used her split second of triumph to catch her square on the nose, flinging her head backwards. Blond strands of hair that had come loose were flying around her like flames. He mentally swallowed down the E-word.

Slayer healing and all, he could take more damage before it started to affect him. Her head must be spinning, yet the only reaction he could discern on her face was fierce determination. Despair just wasn't part of her nature. As long as her body was still alive and adrenalin pumped through her veins nothing was more important than winning the fight. Pain was delayed to be felt when everything was over.

Still, now, when she was recovering, was the perfect moment to go for her throat. With a growl he changed and charged. That very instant the quick thumping of her heartbeat seemed louder to him than any other noises of the night. He could almost taste the metallic flavor of her blood in the back of his mouth. He was just a quick bite away from it now.

This was when she clocked him on the head heavily with both her hands, fingers laced together. As Spike went down his teeth ripped open a bloody gash along her left breast. He recovered just in time to roll backwards, avoiding a dropkick that might have clocked him out.

Buffy paused a second there, panting, assessing him, looking for a weakness, for an opening, for any way to end him. It would be a death sentence to tell her that but right now she reminded him of Drusilla. Dru when she was hunting, when she was sussing out the best way to steal a suckling baby from its mother's breast. A predator from head to toe. It sent shivers down his spine when she looked at him like that. Blood was dribbling down her belly and yet there was not even a trace of fear in her demeanor. It made him want to rip her throat out so he could drown himself in the power that radiated from her.

They circled each other for a few seconds. Then within the blink of an eye they both attacked, mashing their bodies together. He could feel one hand that was supposed to hit him roam down his flank, while the other blocked his punch. Their legs were entwining to throw each other off balance but when he pushed his thigh between hers, he was mostly just reveling in the touch. Grey green eyes met blue ones for a moment. The next instant they broke apart as fast as they had come together and the dance of kicks and blows started once more.

Her scent was getting intense to him. Small pearls of sweat started to form on her forehead. Her blood was rushing and all her juices flowing. Spike found she smelled like sunshine most of the time. Warm, clean and deadly. Like she would burn him to cinders if he came too close. Now that smell was blotted out by a more basic mix of aromas that made him heady. Agitation was there, excitement and, it was useless to deny, arousal.

Where had that stake come from? He must have missed, when she reached for it. He faked another go for her throat and grabbed her wrist. But he didn't manage to get a proper hold. She was too quick for that. The stake scraped along his arm. Her jaw was set now, the corners of her mouth curling up with a look of amused determination, that involuntary joy in the close kill that probably only her enemies ever got to see. And most of those took it too their graves, just like the dark glare of Nikki Wood.

She went in for it. Impatience was overruling caution. It was the need to end it that drove her now. End it, him, the enemy, the monster, the vampire no matter what. He feigned a block, sidestepped and kicked her hand so he'd be rid of the stake. Their bodies connected once more. He could feel her muscles vibrate with tension from all the adrenalin. He knew his must feel alike, cold but equally taut. He was so close to living, when every fiber of his being sung with the fight.

He caught her around the waist, finally gaining a grip on her that was firm enough to toss her hard enough to break something of importance. But there it was again! One of those moves that should not have been physically possible. She brought up both her feet between them and kicked herself off from his chest, propelling her body free from his grip if only to crash on the floor.

He leaped after her and for a second there he thought he had her but she rolled to the side last moment and he landed only on wet grass. Her bony fist connected with his jaw, giving him a headache that left him prone for an instant. She took advantage and jumped on his chest, pinning him down with those ridiculously strong arms that looked like easily breakable twigs.

He squirmed beneath her and attempted to bite her with a feral growl. She only rocked her hips in response, almost absently, while she took another stake out of her waistband and raised it.

He stared up into her blazing eyes, suddenly nearly paralyzed. She towered over him like an avenging angel, determined to make him pay for all his sins. Part of him even wanted her to finish him off for good. It was like looking down from a cliff toying with the thought of how the wind would feel if you fell down. To feel for oneself what it was like, when a slayer fulfilled her destiny. Would it be a sensation worth dying for?

But then her lips connected with his, hungrily searching his corpse for a spark of life and he knew, there was no thing in hell that could make him leave this world as long as she was in it.


End file.
